


I Call This A Win

by helens78



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Vehicular Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vecchio might have lost the race, but he definitely came out of the evening a winner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Call This A Win

It is not Vecchio's fault that Kowalski won the race. For one thing, this is not the original Riv -- Vecchio is sure the original Riv would've torn the GTO to pieces. After three full replacements, the market for Riviera parts has been getting kind of thin on the ground; this last one doesn't even have the Stage One package, which pains Vecchio to no end.

But he pulls into the abandoned parking lot second. It's close, at least. Kowalski doesn't have time to get out of his car and look cocky or anything.

In fact, Vecchio's the first one out of his car, with Kowalski following shortly thereafter. Kowalski grins and has just enough time to say "That's _three_ " before Vecchio has him by the jacket, and then all Kowalski says is " _Whoop_ " and "Hey" and finally " _oof_ ," because Vecchio has him down on the GTO's hood now, black finish making a pretty, pretty contrast with Kowalski's hair.

Kowalski's got a jacket on, so the heat from the hood won't be too terrible. Vecchio isn't cruel about this kind of thing; he just--well. Maybe it's not really accurate to say he isn't cruel while he's out for revenge, pure and simple, defending the Riv's honor by putting Kowalski and the GTO in their places. Kowalski's place is right here, in front of Vecchio, legs spread wide--Vecchio kicks Kowalski's legs apart to get them just where he wants them--and the GTO's place is right underneath him, cooling down and ticking as the engine heat dissipates, a perfect surface for Kowalski to brace himself against while he gets what Vecchio needs to give him.

"Yeah," Kowalski breathes. "Yeah, gimme, gimme--"

"Don't get bossy," Vecchio shoots back, ruffling Kowalski's hair. "You know that's not how you get what you want."

Kowalski bites his lower lip and nods, settling in against the GTO. He doesn't try to rush Vecchio as Vecchio digs into his pocket for a condom, for a lube packet; he doesn't push it by getting his own jeans and underwear down around his thighs. He waits while Vecchio sets the lube and condom down on the hood, then reaches around and unbuckles Kowalski's belt, pushing his jeans down, finally slipping his hands under the elastic waistband of Kowalski's boxer-briefs and sliding those down, too.

"Please," Kowalski whispers. That's more like it; oh, that is _so_ much more like it. Vecchio growls softly under his breath and gets his cock out, gets the condom on; he slicks the lube over his fingers and presses them into Kowalski, quick and rough, just the way Kowalski likes it. Kowalski moans and pushes back against Vecchio's fingers, just a little, just enough for Vecchio to see it for what it is: Kowalski's so desperate he's fucking himself on any part of Vecchio he can get.

No need to make him wait, then; no need for Vecchio to make _himself_ wait. He shoves in, hard, slamming the fronts of Kowalski's thighs against the GTO. Kowalski hisses and scrambles backwards, and he gets one arm down between his legs, protecting his cock. Vecchio snickers.

"You think it's so funny, _you_ try being where I am," Kowalski says, but then Vecchio's moving, shoving in deep, breaking Kowalski's words into gasps and his gasps into moans. Kowalski's arm moves, hand moves, and Vecchio knows he's jerking off while he takes Vecchio's cock.

Kowalski's always so _eager_. It's one of the things Vecchio loves about the guy.

When they've got their rhythm down, Kowalski starts pushing back again, starts fucking himself on Vecchio's cock. "If," Kowalski pants. "If it were--you--"

Vecchio rams in a little harder just for that. "It's _not_ me," he growls, and he gives Kowalski a few more hard strokes just to remind him.

"--God, God, _yeah_ , harder, harder--oh, fuck," Kowalski groans. "If it were you--I'd--" He groans again, head coming down to rest against the GTO's hood. "Ohhhh, fuck, yeah..."

But now Vecchio's curious, and he eases up a little, slows down. "If it were me, _what_?" he snaps out. Kowalski's head comes up, and he pushes back, trying to get more, but Vecchio pins him at the hips and holds him still. "You'd _what_?"

"I'd make you lick it," Kowalski moans. "I'd make you lick--I'd make you fucking lick the paint off," and then his hand's moving, fast, _fastfastfast_ , and Vecchio speeds up, too, hands tight on Kowalski's hips, dragging him back into every thrust until he's gone, coming hard inside Kowalski, crying out when Kowalski goes over, too, and his ass clenches at Vecchio's cock, tightening up so hard Vecchio almost forgets to breathe.

Vecchio collapses on top of Kowalski, head between Kowalski's shoulderblades. "You'd make me lick it," Vecchio mumbles.

"Yeah," Kowalski mumbles back, squirming a little--squeezing Vecchio's cock again, the greedy little bastard.

"Show me."

"Hm?"

"Show me. Show me what you'd make me do..."

Kowalski glances behind him, just enough to get a look at Vecchio's face. Vecchio may be winded, but he's still got enough energy left to raise his eyebrows and give Kowalski a challenging _I-dare-you_ look.

So Kowalski nods and turns his head down to face the GTO, and Vecchio steps to the side to get a look.

Kowalski licks his lips first, but then he drags his tongue across the hood, a long broad swipe across slick black paint with a brand-new clearcoat. He does it a second time, just to show off, and then a third, as he realizes that Vecchio's staring at him, spellbound. Finally, he stops, and he turns toward Vecchio, grinning.

"Next time we're doing this on my car," Vecchio says. "I want to see your mouth on the Riv."

"You're gonna have to beat me first," Kowalski says, and Vecchio knows right now he's going to be spending his next paycheck on that 260-horsepower engine.

 _-end-_


End file.
